I
fell for 16 year old Jeanette the first time I visited the vicarage. I thought
she was a serving girl at first she was so timid, but no, she was a daughter, one
they'd adopted. I was told back home she was partly French but she didn't sound
it, and how anyone could have a waist that slim I could never understand.

I
set my heart on her, I truly did. She was so quiet and so sweet, and I just
fell for her and started to visit regular. We were both a bit young but soon
she was allowed to walk in the gardens with me and sometimes we sat alone in
the drawing room, and my heart ached when I was away from her. But then I got a
letter from the new world, all the way from America. It was from my uncle
Edward who had a business in Boston importing clothing from Liverpool, and he
was inviting me to go and join him.

It
was a great opportunity. He said he was so busy he needed a right hand man and
I told my parents it was too good an opportunity to miss, what with labouring
on the farm not getting me anywhere seeing as I had two older brothers. So I
went to the Vicar and his wife and I told them straight out that I wanted to
marry Jeanette and take her to the new world.

They
were very nice about it, but you can immagine how I felt when they told me she
was too young. The old man drew carefully on his old clay pipe and kept shaking
his head. They were sad days I can tell you, for when I spoke with her that
afternoon she too said she was too young and couldn't see me again. Not even
when I'd made up my mind to go, she wouldn't see me when I went to say goodbye.
But I told them I would be back. “Tell her,” I said,“When I've made some money I'm
coming back for her.” But I didn't have to.

I
wrote to her as soon as I arrived in Boston and less than a month later a
schooner came in carrying a letter from her telling me she loved me. I was so
overjoyed I couldn't believe it, and in it was a lock of her lovely soft brown
hair. Chestnut it was. It was beautiful.

After
a while my uncle got a letter from the vicar back home asking him if it would
be safe for his youngest daughter Jeanette to come to Boston and one day, not
long after, I was in the stockroom and there was someone shouting in the
window. “Hey, there's a girl in a white dress and holding a white parasol
asking for you on the quay,” he said, and I flew down the stairs and
there she was, looking like a frightened rabbit, and I hugged her and hugged
her until I nearly crushed her. Almighty god I loved her so much.

I
didn't expect her so soon but by the end of the day my uncle had arranged for
her to move into someones house with them, and it all sounds crazy now, it was
happening so quick, but I was wasting no more time. I got us married double
quick time.

It
was just bliss. Never will I forget that first night we spent together. It was
in a lodging my uncle had got for us, and forgive me please, but I knew then
what heaven is. She snuggled up in my arms and I never never, never, never,
wanted to let go of her. And then, actually making love, oh glory it was just
so beautiful.

But
then came the crash. It came as quite a shock I can tell you. My uncle, he
disappeared. God knows where he went, but soon the legal men arrived. My uncle,
he'd borrowed heavily to set up his business and he'd run out of time to pay it
back. There were bills unpaid by the score, and within forty eight hours I had
no job. The business was wound up, finished and done with.

Jeanette
wanted for us to go back home, but I persuaded her to look ahead to our future
together. “Its a new word out here darling,” I said,“This is where we'll prosper, not
like back home where there's no work and we could never have a home of our own.
Here,” I said, “I'll buy you the loveliest house you could ever
dream of.”

Within
a couple of days I was working again. I was with a group of lads building big
sheds for the North Western Railroad Company. You should have seen the size of
those great iron steam engines, they were fantastic, and we were building the
sheds for them, and their carriages too, great long sheds, and places for the
engineers to work in. I'd never seen anything like it. This was the great new
age of engineering and this is how the west was being won.

In
a little while Jeanette and I were packing our bags for we were off to the wild
hills and forests of the great north west, to a little place called Pine Creek.
This wasto be our new home,
settling with a handful of good people who'd come with the building of the
railroad to start a good new life, not only for themselves, but for this great
new nation. Here there be plenty of good honest work to be done with good
reward, building everything needed for the railroad that was always pushing on
westward. There were engine sheds to build and a station here too in Pine
Creek, and if I say we were excited it's no exaggeration. For a young couple
who once had nothing whatsoever to look forward to back home this wasa godsend and no mistake.

The
little township was growing fast and Jeanette found part time work at one of
the stores. It was a general store run by a foreign lady. She was middle aged
and named Mrs Veltz. Her husband had moved on with the railroad and hadn't been
heard of since, but she seemed not to be perturbed. She was a real business
woman and traded not only in the town, but, like a few other traders in those
frontier lands, out in the forests with the white settlers and also with the
indians too. She
was a clever woman, there was no doubt about that. In the four years she'd been
trading she'd pretty well mastered the main language of the local tribes and
Jeanette thought she was very brave, but the indians were no longer a threat.

The
indians were holding the peace with the white man because they could see the
benefits that were promised to them, like all the extra land the government was
saying they could have one day, but there was still hatred among themselves
because some tribes were accusing each other of being too quick to sign the
peace treaty, and skirmishes between the tribes were an on going thing. These
however were ignored by the state authority because it wasn't the white man's
problem.

Mrs
Veltz seemed to have taken a real liking to Jeanette, and of an evening
Jeanette used to tell me all about her. The woman was bringing in all manner of
things by train, things that everyone needed like blankets, clothing, even
buckets and bowls, almost everything, and selling them, not only in her
ramshackle shed of a store, but also out in the outlying areas where folk were
felling areas of forest and setting up homesteads to farm. These people needed
things like axes and shovels. And at the same time, with her two black horses
pulling her heavily laden wagon, she was reaching far out to the indian camps
and trading her goods for things like beaver furs and even strange carvings,
and jewelry made from amazing semi precious stones. And the stuff was making a
good profit too when she sent it back on the railway to the thriving eastern
seaboard.

Soon
she'd given Jeanette a rise and taken her on full time, and things were going
very well for us. We had rented a little shack on what welaughingly called the other main street,
but in reality it was the only other street in town, but in the following months
the pattern of my work started to change and I didn't like it. It meant
travelling up the line for a couple of days at a time and I didn't like being
away from Jeanette. She insisted she was alright, and ofcourse she said Mrs Veltz would look
after her.

Very
soon Mrs Veltz took on another woman at the store and I was pleased about that.
Mrs Veltz wasn't often away on her jaunts as she called them, but when she did
go offit would mean Jeanette would
have someone with her in the store.

A
few more months passed and then out of the blue Mrs Veltz invited us to dinner
one night, and what she came up with completely stunned us. She said she was
going to go back east and she was offering us her business.

“Dears,
you're young enough to go to the bank and get yourself a loan and you'll be set
up for life,” she said. It sounded amazing but we did some calculations
with her, and on the figures she was showing us it looked as if we could clear
the debt in less than five years. It was just too good to miss, and with my
worries about working any longer for the railway company and being away from
home for days at a time, it was an opportunity not to be ignored.

After
a few days she was off again on one of her trips, but this time specifically to
one of the indian camps, and she insisted Jeanette must go with her. “I
want you to meet these people,” she said. “When I've gone you can
do what you like with the business, but I strongly advise you go on trading
with the indians because there's a good profit in it.”

Jeanette
was very nervous of going up country through the forests to an indian village,
but she plucked up courage and one morning climbed aboard the covered wagon and
off they went. Mrs Veltz had wanted me to go as well but there was no way I
could get time off,and so I had to
let her take Jeanette on her own.

It
was four days and four very lonely nights before they returned, and when
Jeanette burst in the door she threw herself into my arms and couldn't stop
talking. She'd been thrilled with the experience. She was just full of it all.
She'd been taken to the Waniuco camp and the words were just tumbling out of
her. She told me about the journey taking two days each way and how Mrs Veltz
shot a rattle snake first day out and how they'd slept under the stars and how
the indian braves rode out to meet them because their look-outs had seen them
coming and what it was like in the camp with all their cooking fires going and
how they all gathered round them in the middle of all their wigwams, and most
of all how Mrs Veltz had spoken to them in their own language. And she also
told me how, when the boxes had been unloaded, the chief put his hand over her
head and said something that made all the braves chant, and she said she was
completely bewildered by it all.

She
said Mrs Veltz had told them Jeanette was their special guest and they heaped
presents on her. As she emptied her pockets and showed me several bead
necklaces and bangles she was laughing and saying they even presented her with
a leather bag. It was terribly heavy and sewn up so it couldn't be opened and
Mrs Veltz had a brave put in the wagon.She laughed again. “It was for Mrs Veltz,” she said
“But they were giving everything to me.”

I
asked what was in the bag and she told me that her boss had said they were
bangles and when I asked what was in the boxes they'd delivered she said they
were tools. She said the boxes were heavy but she hadn't seen inside them. And
for a brief moment I just felt it didn't sound quite right. I didn't know the
indians were buying white mans tools, but then why not, but if they were, would
bangles be sufficient payment? I asked Jeanette, and she wasn't sure but said
some of the bangles and bracelets that came from there were beautiful.

No
further doubt ever entered our heads, but I have wished and wished a million
times that we had just stopped and given it all a bit more thought. We were
being swept along on the crest of a wave. We were riding high. We were on our
way to owning our own business. We thought our future together was assured. Not
for one moment did either Jeanette or I realise that we were being fooled, set
up and framed.

Some
weeks before Jeanette'strip to the
indian camp a dozen boxes of ammunition had been stolen from the railway depot,
but how could we have guessed they'd been secretly acquired by Mrs Veltz?And how could Jeanette have known the
ammunition was hidden inside the boxes they'd delivered to the indians? And
seeing as the theft was a standing joke among all the railwaymen, owning to the
fact that the boxes were clearly marked FAULTY, why would anyone want to steal
them? And a week after her trip to the indian camp, when we heard of a skirmish
between two indian tribes had resulted in a massacre, did we connect that in
anyway? Of course not. It was only by word of mouth that we heard. The little
local paper in town hadn't yet come out that week so there were no details, and
most people just shrugged their shoulders. To many a good indian was still a
dead indian.

Now
of course I can tell you everything. It all came out in the end. The connection
to everything I've mentioned was simply Mrs Veltz, and now of course I know all
about the jewelry. It was only made with semi precious stones, but in a piece
of jewelry she'd had some weeks earlier, Mrs Veltz had spotted a tiny seem of
gold in a piece of white quartz. It was no more than the width of a piece of
cotton running through it, but she knew what it was.

That
piece with the tiny seam of gold had come from the Waniuco camp and soon she
was back there, not just hoping for another bracelet or bangle with a tiny
amount of gold in it, but with a plan in her head that was as wicked as it was
greedy. She knew well enough that they must know they had gold on their land,
but it was a fact that the indians saw gold as a curse. They were savages yes
but they knew on which side their bread was buttered. They knew that if they
let the white man know about the gold the soldiers would come and force them
off their land. So, like several other tribes in their position, they had kept
quiet about it. To them their land was worth far more than gold.

So,
this scheming woman went back to them and struck her deal. In a nut shell it
was - “I know there's gold here, and I want some. Give me enough gold
bearing quartz to make it worth my while and I will bring you what ever you
need, and I will retire, go back east, and no-one will ever know about your
gold.”

The
old men of the tribe got their heads together and decided there was definitely
something they wanted. Something the white man's laws prohibited them from
having, and that was rifle ammunition. Rifles they'd got, old now but still
usable, ammunition though was scarce, and wouldn't they just love to wipe out
the Acachas beyondthe Red Sand
Lake. And so she set about finding it for them.

Not
long after Jeanette had been taken to the Waniuco camp I was able to leave the
railway company and I was soon learning the ropes as a trader. We hadn't yet
acquired the business and of course we were not aware of what the woman was up
to, but one day she decided to leave the other woman in charge of the store
while she took Jeanette and I to visit the Waniucos again.

I
thought it was strange for her to be visiting the same tribe again so soon, but
she said that we needed to keep up the most valuable contacts and that very
next day we loaded up with pots and pans, blankets, knives and axes, and
goodness what else, and off we went.

It
was just like Jeanette said it would be, rattling along for hours through
beautiful scenery and at night sleeping under the stars. It was beautiful out
there in those great forests, but I remember how frustrated I felt each night.
Janette was cuddled up with me, but that woman was only a few feet away, and I
longed to be alone with my lovely little Jeanette again.

That
last day dawned gloriously. It was going to be hot. Then, after I'd taken the
horses to a stream and Jeanette had fixed her long plaits, I watched her
laughing and talking with Mrs Veltz who was securing the horses into the
shafts, and I just couldn't understand how a girl could be so pretty. As I
watched her I was feeling quite embarrassed.She was wearing so little compared to
the woman. Perhaps it was the French blood in her veins but I suppose out in
the wilds she felt so free and easy. I'd been with her as she'd changed in the
wagon earlier so I knew she wasn't wearing anything that morning under her
dress, and it was so terribly thin compared to the womans brown shirt and long
skirt. Heaven only knows what they would have said back home at the vicarage.
Jeanette's flimsy little green dress hardly covered her knees, and her legs
were so bare and slim. I tell you honest, I had quite a job controlling myself,
but at last they were ready, and pulling on her sandals Jeanette climbed up and
sitting close to me planted a big kiss on me cheek, and Mrs Veltz laughed, and
said “Now, now children.”

Oh
god how I loved Jeanette. Sometimes at home, on bath nights, we used to kneel
by the tub facing each other naked with her soft nipples pressing against my
chest, and while her lips slowly slid little kisses around my face I would
gently unravel her plaits, and as my sexual passiongrew and rose up to her between her
legs, she would breath a little murmur, and right there and then she'd coil her
arms around my neck and I'd lower her gently down to that deep woolly bath rug,
and make love to her right there and then.

However,
when at last we reached the Waniucos there was something unexpected about it.
As we approached through the trees we could see the conical shapes of their
wigwams and the smoke from their fires, and soon there were indians either side
of us, but we could see they were all squaws. Jeanette asked “Is there
something wrong?” But the woman just shook her head and drove on into the
midst of the camp, with all these squaws, silent and stony faced, piling in
around us now.

Mrs
Veltz jumped down from the wagon and told us to follow her, but I felt very
uneasy about it. The atmosphere was nothing like welcoming, and I put my arm
around Jeanette as we walked between their wigwams and their cooking fires and
various frames hung with animal skins, until we stopped before some older
squaws, where Mrs Veltz addressedthem all. We had no idea what she was saying of course, but they started
to shout and Jeanette snuggled closer to me because it was becoming alarming,
and then suddenly, with one of the old squaws shouting something, they turned,
and yelling like fury they were upon us.

It
was like a bar room brawl and I found myself struggling furiously but they were
all over me, and god forgive me, trying to throw them off I was hitting out in
a blind fury, and before long I found ropes around my wrists and my ankles and
I was being dragged backwards and I found I was being lashed with my arms and
legs outstretched to a wooden frame. Skins were being pulled from it and at the
same time Jeanette was being held up against me and lashed in the same way, so
we were face to face, lashed together outstretched to this big frame.

The
squaws were now dancing around and chanting, with kids running round and dogs
yapping, and we were just standing there, spreadeagled against each other,
exhausted, frightened, and utterly bewildered.

Mrs
Veltz was no where in sight, and we were worried about her but we were having
to endure the taunting of some of the older squaws who were jabbering away and
laughing at us, and occasionally poking Janette in the ribs with stubby
fingers. But then, as I was trying to tell Janette that we mustn't look scared,
they suddenly fell silent, and looking over Jeanette's shoulder I saw Mrs Veltz
emerge from a wigwam with an elderly squaw.The others went and gathered round them
and soon Mrs Veltz was saying something to them, and then the old squaw said
something, and suddenly they erupted again, 'whooping' and 'hollering', and
jumping up and down in sheer joy.

Mrs
Veltz looked across at us, and at first I thought she was going to turn and go,
but no, she walked across to us. We just couldn't understand it though. She
quite clearly hadn't been molested so why had we, and as she reached us she
said, very sadly, “I'm sorry my dears, I didn't want to see you like
this.” It was incredible, but straight away I wanted to know why they'd
strung us up, and taking a deep breath she told us. It was like a confession.
She was at last getting it off her chest I suppose, and she told us that some
months before she'd spotted a thin vein of gold in one of the stone bangles
here in this Waniucos camp and, like I said, in the manner of a confession, she
told us everything.

However,
if she looked contrite to start with it didn't last. When she told us about the
dud ammunition she laughed when she said that some-one had brought her a dozen
boxes that were useless, but it had set her thinking. She then explained why
this Waniucos camp was full of widows and mothers, and we learned that the
victims of the massacre we'd heard of had been the warriors of this very tribe.

She
then told us that she'd heard it rumoured that the Acachas, the tribe on the
Red Sand lake, also had gold on their land, and apparently more of it, and of
course she also knew of the hatred between the Acachas and the Waniucos.So, she'd done a deal with bothtribes.

She
sounded so pleased with herself. She said she'd sold some ammunition to the
Acachas for a modest quantity of gold, but for a much larger amount of gold she
had promised them that she would sell the Waniucos those boxes of faulty
ammunition, ammunition that appeared normal, even when fired, but wouldn't
carry much further than you could throw a brick. The outcome of course was that
the Acachas wiped out the Waniucos warriors in a very one sided fight.

It
was a filthy deal, and of course I still wanted to know why we'd been tied up
like this, and what she told us was horrifying. She told us that she knew that
the Acachas never killed women, and if these Waniucos women discovered that
their warriors had been wiped out because she had sold them faulty ammunition
they might never rest until they found her. “So my dears,” she
said, “I had to have an insurance policy. When we brought the faulty
ammunition here Jeanette, my insurance policy was to make it clear to them that
you were the supplier, that's why they were heaping payment upon you so
generously.”

Her
cold blooded audacity was astounding, and as we listened in horror she went on
to say that unfortunately these women had afteral found out why their warriors
had been defeated, and that they had got word to her, through another trader,
offering her a rewardto bring the
white girl back to them.

Jeanette
kept groaning “Oh dear god,” and I was shouting at her and cursing
her and wanting to know why they wanted Jeanette, and as the woman was saying
how sorry she was now, I'd half noticed that a few yards away, a squaw in the
midst of a crowd of them was digging a deep hole. Facing over Jeanette's
shoulder Isaw it but it didn't
register with me because obviously I was so alarmed by what the woman was
telling us, and still I was asking, “For god's sake woman why have they
done this to us and what the hell are they going to do?”

She
took another very deep breath and paused, I suppose trying to find a way of
saying it, but in the end she just came straight out with it. I knew we were in
trouble but what she said wasjust
devastating. I couldn't believe it. She took this deep breath, and then she
said “I'm sorry but they are going to kill you.”

Jeanette
cried out in horror, and I started shouting at the woman, calling her
everything I could think of, and still she insisted that it might not have
ended this way, and that she had pleaded for us. It was obviously a lie and now
she was stroking Jeanette's plaits and trying to calm her. As if she could? She
must have been mad, and she kept saying it was a shame and I was swearing at
her and begging her to ask them to spare my wife, but she just shook her head,
and she said they were taking her first, which made the poor girl cry even
more.

She
then had the nerve to tell us that she'd told us to give us time to prepare
ourselves. But to be told that you're going to die is just unimaginable. Then
Jeanette spoke, hesitating through her tears and trying to get her breath, she
asked how we were going to die. Mrs Veltz was visibly reluctant to say, but
Jeanette insisted. “If we're to die,” she said, “I want to
know how.” But she wouldn't say. It was clear that she knew alright, but
all she said was “Your husband will stay as he is until tomorrow, but
they will deal with you tonight my dear.” That was all she said, and I
saw that she too was starting to cry now, and again stroking Jeanette's hair
she said, “I'm so sorry my poor little dear,” and quickly then she
departed.

Jeanette
had slumped in despair and was practically hanging now by her wrists and I was
trying to tell her that it couldn't be true and they wouldn't dare harm us, but
of course I was terrified that it might be, and as we heard the woman whipping
up her horses and driving off Iwas
trying to get us free, and I saw over Jeanette's shoulder that some of the
squaws were bringing a long pole which they stood in the hole they'd dug.Again I wasn't paying them any attention
and as they were stamping down the earth around the pole I was still trying to
tell Jeanette it wasn't true, “They won't harm you, they won't.” I
was insisting, “They won't,”

But
then suddenly! Oh god, suddenly I realised what they were doing! As I realised
what Jeanette was going to I just cried out! Some of them were now laying bundles
of wood around the foot of the post!Oh god they were going to burn her at the stake!

Jeanette
was asking what I'd seen, but how could I tell her? How could I tell her they
were going to burn her? I couldn't even speak, but she knew for sure now that
she was going to die. “It's true what she said isn't it.”she said.
But I couldn't answer her. I was crying my heart out. I couldn't tell her what
I'd seen, but I couldn't pretend any longer.

For
a long time we hung together, both crying and entwining our fingers together
and trying so hard to be brave, saying the Lord's prayer and telling each other
of our love for each other, and all the time I was going through hell, knowing
what I was going to be made to watch.

The
squaws were in no hurry, but as it grew dark they were getting more and more
rowdy. They were feasting around a big fire some distance away and all the time
they were wailing some hellish dirge, and all we could do was wait. My poor
love, she was trembling all the time and I kept burying my face in her neck,
sobbing and kissing her. I felt so helpless, and all the time my heart was
breaking in two knowing she was going to be burnt alive.

Then,
when it was properly dark, they turned from their feast and came to us. More
fires were lit and soon the camp was bathed in a yellowy light with grotesque
shadows dancing on their wigwams. And as they pressed eagerly around us,
Jeanette in panic now, was crying and pressing her face to mine, and as our
tormentors stood around us laughing I was hastily telling Jeanette again and
again that I would always love her and the good Lord would bring us together
again. Oh God, it was so dreadful looking over her shoulder at that post and
its bundles of wood, and then suddenly, with one of them announcing something,
they pounced.

Jeanette
was screaming and I was swearing at them as they cut her loose and as she came
free she was trying to cling to me, but whooping and yelling they pulled her
from me, and with dogs barking and yelping, she was dragged away, and then
suddenly she sawwhat they'd
prepared for her.

Screaming
and digging her heals into the ground she was dragged to it, crying out in
panic and trying to wriggle free of them, but of course she couldn't, and pulling
off her remaining sandal, they stood her on a bundle of wood and quickly lashed
her to the stake. Her arms were pulled roughly right back and her wrists
tightly bound together behind it, her ankles were chained, and a rope was
coiled tightly several times around her waist with a couple of others pulled
around her above and below her breasts.

All
I could do was gaze at her and cry out to her that I loved her and pray to the
Lord that she would go quickly. “Please, please god,” I was crying
“Don't let her suffer, she's not strong, she's only young, don't let her
suffer. Please, don't let her suffer.” And struggling through her tears
she was crying out to me, but then a fat old squaw appeared with a black
cooking pot, and with the others crowding noisily around her, she went down on
one knee, scooped out a hand-full of yellow grease from the pot and started to
smear it over Jeanette's bare feet. It was horrible to see this because I'd
already seen that most of the wood was kept to one side. I feared they were
going to burn her slowly, and greasing their victim meant it would be even
worse for her.

With
Jeanette squirming her feet were greased underneath as well, and then
struggling to her feet the old woman started to smear the grease up her legs.
Jeanette's ankles had been chained either side of the stake so her legs were a
little apart, and soon she was greasing her legs up between her thighs, right
up under her little dress. It was horrible, and then I saw another squaw had a
knife, and to their delight she soon had Jeanette's knickers off and with
another hand-full of grease the old hag was up under her dress again and
greasing her all the way up inside her thighs.

The
hag was doing things to her now, and the more she tormented her the more those
devils enjoyed it. It was vile. They were yelling with sheer joy and eventually
some of them were hacking at her dress. They were cutting it into ragged strips
and ripping it from under the ropes until they had her completely naked, and
grabbing hand-fulls of the grease several of them proceeded to grease Jeanette
all over, rubbing it hard into every part of her body until she stood bound to
that dreadful post panting, stricken with terror, and absolutely gleaming,
greased, and ready.

Then
an older squaw came and spoke a few words to them, and as soon as she'd
finished they were whooping and cavorting around again, but now with drums
beating. They were dancing around the stake, going round and round her like a
yelling drunken rabble, and then, I saw a squaw with long black hair stooping
at one of the fires. She was lighting a torch, a stick bound around the end
with something inflammable, and soon it was ablaze.

I
don't know why she had been appointed her torturer but that girl was a devil.
As the older, grinning squaws sat down cross legged and the rest continued
their wild chanting and dancing, she stood and silently sneered at Jeanette for
a few moments, and then she held the torch to one of her arms.

Oh
god it was awful. Jeanette was shrieking but the girl took her time. Her
screams were pitiful, I just can't tell you how much she suffered. I was
pulling at the ropes that held me with all my strength but I couldn't get free,
I could only watch her writhing and screaming in the most excruciating torment,
and every now and then another squaw would hand her another torch and the
torture continued.

The
young beast burned each of her arms all the way up leaving them raw, and then,
with Jeanette going crazy and begging for mercy, she took a fresh torch and, oh
dear god, with the flames reflected against Jeanette's gleaming breasts, she
held the torch against her nipples, and very slowly she turned each of her poor
breasts into an horrific red mess of blistered raw flesh.

I
can't find the words to describe her suffering. I don't know how someone as
delicate as Jeanette lived through it. For ages she was screeching in agony,
twisting and absolutely writhing, but her torturer gave her no mercy, she held
the flame to her poor breasts relentlessly. It was hideous, and time and time
again I triedto turn away, I
couldn't bare to watch but I couldn't cut out her screams and the relentless
beat of the drums. It was driving me crazy.

Eventually
she'd finished with her breasts and she was handed another torch. I told you
Jeanette's legs were parted, andthere was a reason. When she lowered the torch and held it up between
her legs, Jeanette went berserk, screeching and twisting herself like fury, and
I was going mad too, and the old squaws sitting on the ground were really
grinning now, slapping their hands up and down on their laps like children.

I
don't know how long she held it there, I just don't know, and when at last she
took it away, Jeanette collapsed, crying in such agony, with her head hung down
and her plaits hanging over her burned breasts. Her poor body was in such a
mess, it was gruesome. Like her arms, her body was raw all the way up her
front.

Above
their whooping and chanting and the continuous hypnotic beating of those drums,
I was crying out to my poor wife, but if she realised she didn't respond, and
now with a fresh torch, her torturer stooped at last and lit the dry bundle of
wood she was standing on. Fervently I was praying this would be the end for
her, and almost immediately the crackling fire was taking hold among the finer
sticks and little flames were soon creeping up in a smoky haze around her
ankles, and in the those few moments she was lifting her head to me and again I
saw her face, twisted now with such pain. But all of a sudden she threw her
head back against the stake and went rigid. The fire was at her poor feet, and
they were burning, and within seconds, as it became unbearable, she was crying
out insanely again and writhing in agony. Oh god I couldn't bare it.

And
so it went on and on. She was screeching and wildly wrenching herself this way
and that in her ropes, going crazy as the fire burned into her feet, and as I
watched her, for a fleeting second, I had a vision of her standing on the quay
in that little white dress, holding that little white parasol. She'd looked so
sweet. God why did it have to come to this.

Every
time the faggots at her feet burned through they threw down others so that in
time her legs had turned from livid red to shrivelled black and her cries
hadgiven way to the desperate
strangled groans of a demented dying animal as she writhed, sagging in her
bonds, head bowed, slowly roasting. And still they danced around her, crazed
and erotically dancing to the hypnotic rhythm of the drums, revelling in every moment
of her torture.

I
don't know how long it lasted, but when the first shots rang out, I didn't
realise what was happening. Then, as the shots came thick and fast I saw
several of the squaws drop to the ground while others were running, screaming
for their lives.

It
was a platoon of troopers from Fort Rockdale. Several hours later I learned
that a trader had suggested to the military that they might bring a patrol this
way. It was the trader who'd been asked by these squaws to tell Mrs Veltz to
'bring the girl', and wondering what it meant, he'd eventually told the
military, and out of curiosity they'd re-routed the next patrol.

As
they stamped out Jeanette's fire I could see some of them could hardly look at
her poor body as they cut her free. At the same time others were releasing me
and having been strung up for so long I could hardly walk but I was determined
to get to her, and while they joined the others going after the squaws I knelt
and cradled her in my arms.

Dear
god she was in a ghastly mess. I cuddled her and I hugged her, and hugged her,
and hugged her, telling her that it was all over now and that she was going to
be alright. But I knew it was hopeless. Her burns were horrific. Her whole body
was just one whole mass of hideous raw burns. It was just ghastly, but as she
lay whimpering she was trying to say something to me, but I couldn't tell what
she was trying to say. She was looking up into my eyes and she was trying so
hard to say something, and then her words started to fade away, and she started
to go. Her eyes started to glaze over and I knew she was going. Her poor body
was going limp, and as I hugged her I was desperately begging her not to leave
me, but it was too late. She died in my arms.